


Love Is Blooming Through The Cracks

by iamtraassshh



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, I genuinely don't know what to call this, Relationship Study, i think it's angst, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25838188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtraassshh/pseuds/iamtraassshh
Summary: Comments make my day :)
Relationships: Marya Dmitryevna Akhrosimova/Elena "Hélène" Vasilyevna Kuragina
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	Love Is Blooming Through The Cracks

Marya heard the door slam and looked up from her spot on the couch. It was Hélène, stumbling in after a long night of drinking and dancing which Marya had been invited to but declined. And it was a good thing she had for she could smell the alcohol on Hélène from here. Hélène clumsily made her way over to the couch and Marya didn’t bother getting up to help her. She knew she should, knew that it was the right thing to do, but her patience was wearing thin. Too often had Hélène come home like this, late, clumsy, and reeking of booze. Marya was getting tired of having to carry her to bed, wipe off her makeup, get her undressed, and swat away her grabbing hands until she eventually passed out and woke up the next day with a killer hangover. It was a destructive cycle that hurt them both. 

Hélène plopped down in Marya’s lap and kissed her on the cheek, “I missed you tonight, baby.” 

Marya brought a hand to her face, “I’m sure you did.” Then she noticed something on Hélène’s cheek and she moved her hand to the lipstick mark, “What’s this? 

Hélène giggled, “Must’ve smudged my lipstick!” 

Marya ran her thumb over the mark, “That’s not your shade.” And this was true, Hélène only wore a bright fire-engine red color on her lips. It was her signature shade and she never went anywhere without applying a coat of it. However, the stain on her face was a light pastel pink, like something her goddaughter Natasha would have picked. 

Hélène pulled out her phone from her purse and used it as a mirror, “Hm, that’s odd.” 

Marya pulled her hand back, “Is it?” 

Hélène leaned forward and held her forehead against Marya’s, “Aww. Is my dragon jealous? Think I’m kissing other pretty ladies?” 

Marya didn’t move her head but fixed Hélène with a cold gaze, “Are you?” 

Hélène pulled back in mock shock, her drunkenness keeping her from grasping how serious Marya was, “I would never!” She looked Marya up and down, “Not when I have this all to myself.” 

Marya tapped her cheek, “Then explain.” 

Hélène fell forward so her entire body was pressed against Marya’s and Marya nearly forgot she was mad and almost started stroking her hair. 

“I don’t know, baby, maybe someone mistook me for someone they knew and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Maybe it was Anatole trying out a new look. But I’m tired, can’t we just go to bed.” 

Marya stood up at that, and the abrupt motion caused Hélène to fall off her lap and onto the floor. 

She huffed, “Rude.” And looked up at Marya, confusion evident in her eyes, “Wait. Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?” 

Marya started at her with a glare that could send a man running off a cliff just to escape it. “Yes, I’m mad. I’m mad that someone kissed you and you’re too drunk to remember who or why or what happened. I’m mad that you’ve come home like this every day this week and I’m mad that you’re out all the time doing god-knows-what and I’m mad because you don’t seem to understand the problem with that.” 

Hélène cocked her head to the side, “Do you honestly think I’m cheating on you or something?” She stood up and met Marya’s eyes, “You’re just like everyone else huh. Thinking I’m some worthless fucking slut who can’t be trusted?” 

But Marya could see what she was doing from a mile away, “No, I don’t and you know that. You’re trying to make me feel bad so I’ll back off. It’s not gonna work. So stop your guilt-tripping and own up to your actions ” 

The immense genuine hurt in Hélène’s eyes told Marya she had been wrong. This look was only present for a second before it was replaced with anger, “Or maybe you’re not the only one who’s allowed to feel hurt. Cause guess what Masha,” She spat out the word angrily and sarcastically and her voice raised with her emotion, “I am fucking hurt. Cause you think I’d use something that has been used to drag me and my reputation through the gutter so fucking often, something that has caused me so much pain, you think I’d use that to guilt trip and play the victim?” 

Marya didn’t respond, they were at a standstill. For Hélène was fire, screaming and shaking and full of pain and power. And Marya was ice, glaring and keeping her head up high and full of pain and power. They were so similar and so completely opposite at the same time. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, an explosion of pain and power that would either leave no survivors or leave everyone coming out unscathed and ready for round two. 

Marya took a deep breath, admitting she was wrong was a hard thing to do, but necessary if they wanted to move on, “Hélène. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize and that was a foul thing to do.” 

Hélène crossed her arms, “Yeah. It was.” 

“But I think I deserve an apology too.” 

Hélène scoffed, “For what? I think we’ve established that I didn’t cheat on you. I don’t even know why you thought that in the first place.” 

“Not that. It’s the way you act, when you’re out all night and pass out in my arms and wake up whining about a hangover. I love you dearly, Hélène, but it’s not my job to take care of you.” 

Hélène’s eyes became frenzied and her breathing quickened, “I- I never asked you to. You can let me pass out on the floor in my dress, I don’t care.” 

Marya steadied herself, soft power was never her thing. She was used to yelling and threatening and maintaining power through fear, however, this wasn’t going to work with Hélène. After all, she was fire, and fighting fire with fire would end well for no one. Marya steeled herself into ice and chose her next words carefully, “Hélène that’s not it. This behavior every night, all this drinking, it’s not healthy.” 

Marya walked over to Hélène and placed a hand on her shoulder, “And I’m worried. About you.” 

Hélène looked up at Marya, her eyes brimming with tears, a look so tender and vulnerable in her eyes that it almost brought Marya to tears herself. The look lasted for only a few seconds thought before Hélène pulled up an angry act and shoved Marya’s hand off, “Well sorry for making you worry but you don’t need to. I’m fine. I think I’ll spend the night at Anatole’s tonight though.” 

But Marya was not going to let her go, not in this state, she grabbed her arm again. This was a bad choice. As soon as she grabbed, Hélène ripped away from her so har she flew back and slammed into the door. 

Her eyes were fearful and she pulled her arms around herself, covering her face. “I’m sorry,” She sobbed out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She repeated it like a mantra. 

Marya slowly kneeled in front of her, “Hélène? Can you look at me, angel?” 

Hélène lowered her arms from her face but kept them around her body and something in her eyes seemed to shift when she saw Marya gazing at her, like she was just now remembering who she was with. She slowly extended her arm and laced her fingers into the back of Marya’s hair pulling her slightly closer. 

“Can I touch you?” 

Hélène nodded. 

Marya draped her arms around Hélène’s shoulders, grabbing her own hand behind Hélène’s neck, and pressed her forehead to her’s. 

They stayed like that for a while, Hélène’s breathing slowed and she pulled herself closer to Marya. They were silent for quite a time when Hélène spoke up, “Marya?”   
“Yes, love?” 

Hélène shifted her head so it rested on Marya’s shoulder, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you worry. I’m sorry for being like this.” 

Marya leaned her head against Hélène’s, “It’s alright, my angel, but promise me one thing. Promise me that you’ll get help?” 

Hélène pulled back, “Only if you do the same.” 

Marya furrowed her eyebrows at that. 

Hélène smiled softly, “Think I don’t know you as well as you know me? You’re stressed out all the time, babe. And anxiety has certainly done a number on you.” 

Marya laughed, “Thanks.” 

“Hey. I’m serious.” 

Marya smiled and placed her hand on Hélène’s, “I know. And I promise.” 

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my day :)


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